


Perfect Aim

by Duck_Life



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: F/F, Femslash February, Fluff, Friendship, Holodecks/Holosuites, Klingon mating rituals, No impulse control, cafeteria conversations
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-20
Updated: 2020-02-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 22:27:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22813069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Duck_Life/pseuds/Duck_Life
Summary: B'elanna can't stop herself from flirting with Kes in a particularly Klingon way.
Relationships: Kes (Star Trek)/B'Elanna Torres
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	Perfect Aim

“So I’ll see you at 1300 hours?” Kes says, her soft smile practically lighting up all of engineering. 

“It’s a date,” B’elanna replies, squeezing Kes's hand before regretfully letting go. She loves what she does, really, but it would be nice if she and Kes could just ditch all their responsibilities and hang out all day. No deadlines, no time constraints, no patients in sickbay or warp core meltdowns, just the two of them and somewhere quiet to relax and talk (amongst other things). 

“Looking forward to it,” Kes says, leaning forward to give her a peck on the cheek. She walks away, leaving B’elanna with a flurry of butterflies in both stomachs. 

“Kes?” she calls out. When Kes glances back, B’elanna— for no apparent reason— hurls her tricorder at the other woman, beaning her square on the forehead. “Oh my God. Oh my God, I’m so sorry…”

“Ow,” Kes mumbles, rubbing at the reddening spot on her head. “What was that for?” 

“Um… here, let me take you to sickbay,” B’elanna says, ushering Kes out of engineering and silently cursing herself the whole way. 

* * *

“You gotta stop,” Tom says, gesturing toward B’elanna with the end of his fork. 

“Stop what?” Harry asks, joining them at the table. 

“Throwing shit at Kes,” Tom explains. 

B’elanna groans, leaning forward to rest her head against the table. “It’s a stupid Klingon thing,” she sighs. “Klingon women throw things at their mates to show affection. It’s dumb and I don’t  _ mean _ to but it’s like as soon as I see Kes all logic goes out the damn window.” She looks up at the guys. “I mean, it’s like… don’t you ever flirt with somebody without really meaning to? Like that part of your brain just takes over?” 

Harry says, “No,” at the same time Tom says, “Yes.” 

"So you get it," B'elanna says. 

Tom snorts. "No, not really. I've never  _ thrown  _ something at somebody because I had the hots for them."

"Alright, well, you know what, how about when I want your advice I'll ask for it, Mr. Lizard Babies," she snaps.

Harry snickers. "She got you."

“Date any good holograms lately, Starfleet?" she says, shutting him up. 

At that moment, Kes walks into the mess and B’elanna’s eyes light up. Then she picks up the roasted squash she’s been nibbling on and leans back like she’s about to launch it across the room. “Torres!” Tom scolds. Harry grabs her wrist. 

“Ugh,” B’elanna sighs, thunking the squash back down on her tray. “I told you! She’s so cute and when I see her I just…” She makes a strangled noise and buries her face in her hands. 

Harry beckons Kes over while B'elanna grumbles into her vegetables. 

* * *

She's supposed to be running diagnostics on the medical tricorders, but Kes can't keep focused. She's tested the tricorder in her hands three times already because she keeps getting distracted. 

"Something on your mind?" the Doctor asks, coming over to check on her. "Wouldn't be a certain chief of engineering, would it?"

Kes sighs and sets the medical tricorders aside. "I like her so much, Doctor."

"Hm, yes. This is the same woman who nearly gave you a concussion?"

Kes shrugs. "I have a thick skull. The tricorder was more hurt than I was."

"Ah. Of course."

"See, I looked up Klingon culture and physiology when I first started working in sickbay," Kes says. "Before B'elanna and I even started dating. I looked up everything I could about all the different cultures and species on-board."

"Very thorough."

"I like to know things," Kes says. "And it's important, you know, so I don't make any mistakes. Like, for Vulcans, the touching of hands is considered very intimate, but it's more casual for humans."

"I see," the Doctor says. "What did you learn about Klingons?"

"Well. They throw things," Kes says. "The women throw things, and… and scream. The men read love poetry."

"I imagine they duck a lot," the Doctor says. 

"That too."

"So," the Doctor says, "Ms. Torres is chucking heavy objects at you because she is… enamored with you."

"Yes!" Kes says. 

"So what's the appropriate response, then?" the Doctor asks. "Reading her a poem?"

"Well, that's what a man would do," Kes says, tapping against the table while she thinks. "But if I want B'elanna to know how much I care about her and how I respect her and her culture… maybe what I should be doing is throwing things back." 

" _ You _ … are going to throw things at your partner?" the Doctor says skeptically. 

Kes's chin juts out. "You think I can't?"

"I think that when Harry organized a holo-kickball game you decided to be the team mascot."

"I looked  _ adorable _ in that bird costume."

"Nevertheless," the Doctor says, "it's hard to picture you throwing anything."

In response, Kes grabs her empty teacup and tosses it at the Doctor. It soars right through him and breaks against the opposite wall. 

"Wow. You've proven me wrong," the Doctor says flatly. "Would you please clean that up and put the pieces in the matter reclamation system?"

"Okay," Kes says, feeling a little embarrassed as she gets up to clean the mess. "But see? I  _ can  _ throw things."

"At holograms."

"Still counts."

* * *

Instead of their typical dinner together, Kes apparently has a surprise. B’elanna makes her way toward the holodeck, her mind buzzing as she wonders what Kes is planning. She’s also thinking about her conversation with Tom and Harry— and how to stop herself from hurling the nearest object at Kes the next time she gets overwhelmed by how cute she is.

Maybe it’s as easy as shoving her hands in her pockets and keeping them there. 

Once she reaches the holodeck, she keys in her access code and steps inside. Her first impression is that everything is very bright and white— and  _ cold _ . She’s wandered into what appears to be a clearing in a wooded area, everything covered in a thick blanket of snow. 

B’elanna looks around at the snowy landscape and the gently falling flakes. “What is this? Are we in Narnia?” she asks aloud to— apparently— no one. Perhaps there’s a faun hiding in the trees. 

Kes pokes her head up from behind a large snowdrift. “What’s Narnia?”

“From an old book I read as a kid,” B’elanna says, smiling at Kes. She looks almost like a mystical woodland creature herself, with snowflakes collecting in her eyelashes. “What are you doing?” 

Kes answers by lobbing a snowball directly at her. It hits her square in the chest, covering her uniform in powder. “I learned about snowball fights and I think we should have one.” 

B’elanna shrugs and wastes no time in kneeling down to make a snowball and throwing it right back at Kes. “What made you think of this? she asks. 

“I know about Klingon mating rituals, B’elanna, and… I know why you threw that tricorder at me the other day. And that apple. And the Captain’s coffee cup.” 

B’elanna winces apologetically. 

“It’s okay… I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide any part of yourself from me,” Kes says, eyes wide and earnest. “But also… I bruise real easy. So.” She gestures to the snowy winter wonderland around them. 

“You’re amazing.”

“We’re at war, Torres,” Kes reminds her, scooping up another snowball. 

“Okay, okay,” B’elanna laughs, taking cover behind a nearby pine tree. She leans down and begins forming a snowball in her hands, molding the fluffy snow into a dense projectile. “You have no idea what you’ve unleashed,” she warns Kes. 

“Bring it!” Kes calls from behind the safety of her snowdrift. B’elanna launches her snowball and wonders how she got to be so lucky. 


End file.
